


Five More Things That Never Happened to Clark Kent

by legendarytobes



Category: Smallville
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 11:33:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4178214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legendarytobes/pseuds/legendarytobes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five snippets of Elseworlds that never happened. One of them, about Clark as having been adopted by the Queens, is a continuation of a short from the original "Five Things That Never Happened to Clark Kent" also posted here but can be read as a stand alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five More Things That Never Happened to Clark Kent

**Author's Note:**

> I ignored anything from S11 comics about Chloe in the alternate Luthor World/Earth-2 for this piece.

**Five More Things That Never Happened to Clark Kent**

  1. **Freak in a Jar**



Chloe had never seen a more complete 180 in behavior in her life than now, as she snuck back stage at the carnival. Lois had dragged her here while she was visiting Fort Brag, something to do in the North Carolina heat that nominally would have fans and some coolness to it in the Deep South summer. Chloe hadn’t thought it would be worth her time because most of the time, oddities like this weren’t the real kind, not like the Loch Ness monster or a Chupcabra or a vampire. All the things she was convinced were out there no matter what Metropolis P.S. 172 and her journalism advisor, Mr. Fetterman, said. There were weird things afoot, rumors of people with bizarre powers from Lowell County.

In freak shows like this?

It was all tattooed men and women who stuck drills up their noses.

Except not this time.

The boy couldn’t be any older than she was, not even old enough to drive yet, but he was tall and lanky, actually painfully thin, and when she first saw him onstage, Chloe’s initial reaction was that the circus was starving him. Then he’d been introduced as the resident strong man, and she’d both laughed and rolled her eyes. Even if he was well over six feet, the kid couldn’t have weighed more than one hundred and fifty pounds soaking wet. Also, strong men were boring, usually older, fatter guys who’d lift a tire or two.

“Sampson” as he was called was anything but. Even Lois had been complaining about how weak this act was going to be…before the kid crushed coal into a diamond. He did it three times in a row and the third time, Chloe herself, was the audience volunteer to watch and verify no switches had been made. She might have, even then, written it off as a parlor trick, but then he’d bent a real crow bar in half, lifted a thousand pounds of stacked weight over his head, and then as the final trick piled three pick ups on top of each other.

Sampson wasn’t even strong for a normal person, not some impossible gym rat---his physique said as much---he was inhumanly strong. Chloe strongly suspected based on the research she’d started on a town in Lowell County called Smallville, the home of the world’s largest meteor shower about fourteen years ago, that this boy was one of the residents, one of the ones hurt by the so-called “harmless” meteorite fragments littering the town.

How the Hell had he ended up in a traveling freak show in North Carolina, over a thousand miles away then?

That question had burned into her all night but not as much as the boy’s eyes. Clear green and so earnest and sad. She’d never seen anything like them when he’d handed her the newly formed diamond to check for herself. Oh he said the right lines and went through the motions with practiced aplomb, but he wasn’t here of his own free will, not at all.

So she waited till Lois was snoring in the other room and snuck off the base. It was only a mile walk to the fair itself as it also was on the outskirts of town. Chloe had a taser after all and was feeling lucky; it seemed a small distance to traverse to see him again, find out what he was and how he’d come to be that way.

Find out what had happened to him to leave those eyes so sad and hopeless.

Sneaking around was a skill she’d mastered. First, it had been honed following Lois to places on the various bases her cousin had lived on that were forbidden and then, later, as a way for her to find the files and proof of the various indiscretions around her community in Metropolis. It didn’t take too long to find Sampson because she only had to follow the slight moan coming from one of the most isolated tents, the one lit up with the oddest green glow.

That’s where she found him, locked in a cage that was about twelve by twelve with a small cot, a desk and chair and a pile of clearly college level textbooks. He was currently on the bed, staring back at her, his skin a pale white and his veins seeming to almost writhe under the surface.

The kid looked like he couldn’t lift a tissue, let alone a Ford 150.

“I don’t understand” were the first words out of her mouth.

He blinked and when he spoke, his voice was slow and labored. Sampson really was sick. “I don’t either. I don’t get visitors ever. Mr. Murch won’t allow it.”

She frowned and then nodded. “The Emcee, the guy who runs the place, right?”

“My jailer,” he replied struggling to sit up. It was then she noticed the four green rocks in the corner of his cage, the one free spot outside of his desk, bed, and books. The rocks were the ones emanating the light and they pulsed in an odd regular rhythm. Weird. “No one ever comes to me after shows but him or his wife to bring me food.”

“Must not be much,” she said. “How did you even get here?”

“How did you?”

She grinned and pulled the pins from her pocket. “I picked the lock on the gate around the grounds. I needed to...they’re hurting you aren’t they?”

He shrugged. “I’ve gotten used to it, and this is better than it could be.”

“Sampson---”

“Clark,” he corrected. “That’s my actual name, but no one’s called me that in over two years. Murch doesn’t care and, like I said, I don’t get visitors.”

Chloe’s heart broke at that. “They can’t just keep you here. You’re a kid. You have to be in school and where are your parents?”

Clark quirked his head at her, as if trying to decide what to do. She waited for a long time before he spoke again. “Laws won’t protect me.”

“That’s pretty stupid, even if you were here illegally, people can’t just lock you up in a cage!” she stood and started to pace, her hands itching to pick the lock on his cell as well. “This is cruel.”

“Oh, I agree, but the rules are for humans.”

She blinked, not sure she’d heard correctly. Even if he were like the people that had started popping up in Kansas, they were mutants, still human but just altered. “I don’t understand.”

“Oh, I do, believe me. I used to have a life, and then this reporter for _The Inquisitor_ found me and figured out about me and the meteor rocks. He threatened to sell me to the government but there were loan sharks on his tail and he had to unload me faster than he thought. I’d rather be here than the government and, frankly, it’s not like I can leave.”

“You’re from Kansas,” she said. “You’re from Smallville, aren’t you?”

It was his turn for wide eyes. “You’re quick.”

“From Metropolis. Hell, Daddy was going to be transferred to the fertilizer plant in eighth grade but I threw a fit about moving to somewhere that far from The Daily Planet, and he changed his mind. I know about it. After the meteor shower, the town went schizo. Now we have some super weird people even popping up in Metropolis. People want to ignore it, but I don’t.”

“Ah, then I do get it,” he said, laying back down and turning away from her on his bed. “You just came for a second look at the freak.”

“No, I really didn’t. This isn’t right. You’re not getting enough food, you look like you have radiation poisoning, your fucking veins are black and I don’t think I’m imagining that. You can’t stay here.”

“Nothing can save me. I tried the first year to break out but it just made things worse when they’d catch me trying.”

She rolled her eyes, in little mood for Clark’s self-pity. Reaching over, she picked the lock for the cage after a few minutes of work and cracked open the door. “It’s open now.”

Clark sat up and, for the first time, his eyes weren’t sad but seemed to radiate with hope. “Really?”

“Duh, who do you think I am?”

“I don’t know.”

“Chloe Sullivan, and I can take you to my uncle. He’s not a cop but he’s a general and that’s better. We’ll just have these people taken away for child abuse and it’ll be okay, you can go home.”

Clark stilled then and brought his knees to his chest. “Your uncle is what?”

“A three-star. God, don’t you want a lot of tanks pointed here by morning.”

“I can’t.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Nixon, that’s the reporter, before he died, he’d been putting more feelers out for where to sell me. A lot of the government knows what I am, just not where to find me. This place is a fleabag cut rate thing, moves every night or so and no one notices. But I can’t go home, they’re looking for me.”

“Sure, they are, Mulder. Of course there’s a conspiracy. Why didn’t I think about that before?” she huffed.

“I…your uncle didn’t send you did he?” And now Clark was starting to panic, taking in deep breaths and Chloe knew a panic attack when she saw one.

Rushing over, she sat on the bed next to him and patted his back until he started to breathe normally again. “No, it’s four a.m. I snuck off the base because my uncle and cousin would kill me both for coming here like this. I don’t understand. You have every right to go home. You’re not some terrorist, right? The government isn’t sending you to Gitmo.”

Clark laughed, a hollow, broken sound. “No but I have a key spot warmed up in Roswell.”

Chloe opened her mouth to object to the obvious lie, but then she really thought about it: the strength so great that what he could do rivaled tectonic plates, the relation to the world’s largest meteor shower, and the consuming fear of the government, the insistence no one would help him.

“You believe you’re an alien.”

Clark, eyes suspiciously shiny, shook his head and took her hand in his. It engulfed hers; Clark was so much bigger than she. “I _know_ I’m an alien. That’s the difference. It’s why the rocks hurt me, and why even if I leave, I can’t go home. They’ll find me there and then it’ll be a lab and not just a sideshow.”

She wanted to argue that both were as bad, but she realized no one was cutting into him here.

“Then come to Metropolis. We have this duplex thing in the suburbs. My dad works fourteen hour days as Lionel Luthor’s personal assistant now and he’s never home. I think he last went into our basement in 1997.”

Clark blinked. “You can’t be serious.”

She rolled her eyes as she went over the corner to the rocks and tossed them as far away from Clark as she could. The green light faded from them and his skin already looked better, especially as the black veins receded.

“I am. I go home tomorrow anyway. I’ll just ask Lois to buy me an extra train ticket and you can come with me.”

“I don’t need a train.”

She snorted. “Well, unless you can teleport, Big Boy, I don’t think you’re going to be able to get there.”

“I can run.”

“It’s over a thousand miles to Kansas from here.”

“I didn’t say it wouldn’t take me a good half hour but I can do it.”

“But you’re strong.”

He stood and smiled down at her, the first genuine look she’d seen from him outside of sorrow. “I’m a lot of things. Would you like to see? A quick run, and I’ll drop you off a bit off from the base and you can give me your address. I…I just want my parents to know I’m okay.”

She nodded and eyed him curiously as he stood up. “I’ll get word to them somehow, promise. Give me time to figure it out, and we’ll get you home somehow, Clark. Now,” she said holding her arms out and grinning a bit at him. “Take me along for the ride.”

**

  1. **With Strength**



“Hello, Watchtower here,” Chloe said over the commlink. Actually, working for the Justice League was more boring than it sounded. If there wasn’t active crime in Star City, she was staring at dull monitors or, worse, breaking up fights between the boys. A.C. and Bart just could not get along. It was why she only did three shifts a week around her work at _The Register_. “Victor tell me something interesting has happened.”

“Actually,” a perky voice chirped on the other end. “I might have hacked the feed.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Penny Swan, how are you? I thought you, Patricia, and William were deep in research through your dad’s files.”

“We were, and we actually found something in an old warehouse of his in Metropolis, but it might not have gone as well as we thought.”

Her heart stilled at that. “Is William okay? You didn’t find any more Kryptonite, right?”             

“Nope,” Penny said. “I…Patricia and I both tried to calm him down, but he’s been locked in his room at our penthouse for over two weeks. We don’t know what to do.”

She frowned. “Will and I are friends, but I don’t know why you think that I’d be able to help.”

“Oh please, you’re all he talks about,” she said. “Chloe, how can you possibly be that obtuse. He’s obsessed with your monthly visits, and he then moons over you till your back.”

“Huh?”

“He’s in love with you, clearly has been since you sprung him from Old Cue Ball’s lab last year.”

Chloe’s jaw tumbled open. That wasn’t possible. It just wasn’t. Hell, sometimes when she visited, he’d gripe that “Sunshine” was here and claim he had tons of old proofs of Swan’s and data records to pour over and foist her off on Penny for a few hours before he’d even see her. There was no way.

Even if there was, she and Oliver had been dating for three months now.

“No, he’s not.”

“Oh, he so is,” Penny replied. “I wasn’t going to tell you because I thought it would be mean to Will since he’s the one sitting on that not-a-secret so hard, but he’s not doing well, and he needs someone to help him. I know you and Ollie…Look, I can’t help you have shitty taste in Queen siblings. All I can tell you is Will’s hurting and scared, and calling you was the only thing I could think of.”  


“I can’t just be in New York in five minutes. I’m not exactly Bart here.”

“You don’t need to be. Get a cab, one of our jets is already waiting for you at the airport.”

Chloe whistled even as Penny hung up. She was never going to get used to working with rich people, just never.

**

She hesitated at the door, not sure what either Penny or Patricia were expecting her to do. Hell, they hadn’t even elaborated much, just saying that their father’s possessions had revealed something very distressing for Will. That scared her deeply. Chloe wasn’t sure what was worse than knowing you were the last of your entire species. Almost worst, she liked Oliver a lot. Will might have a crush on her, but that didn’t mean….seriously, what the Hell did the Swan sisters expect her to do?

“I can hear you, Sunshine.”

Chloe cursed. Damn superhearing. “Then can you be a gentleman, Will, and let me in? I flew all the way from home to see you.”

There was a long pause then, finally, the shuffle of feet. The door opened soon after that and she tried not to gasp at his face. Will was gaunt, had lost a bit of weight, and she knew he was neither eating nor getting enough sunlight. His hair was a mess and his clothes were spotted. She doubted he’d bathed in the two weeks since he’d gotten whatever weird news had made him so upset.

“Penny made you do this.”

“I wanted to come. She said you were upset, and they couldn’t get you to talk to anyone,” she continued, breezing past him and sitting down on the chaise lounge in his massive room. Again, rich people. “No one told me anything more than that Dr. Swan had a non-lethal artifact that set you off. Now, can you tell me what’s going on?”

Will sighed and sat back on his bed, leaning up against the wall. “We found my ship.”

She blinked. “Your what?”

“Spaceship, the thing I came to Earth in?”

“Swan had it all along?”

“Yes, but Patricia had a hard time finding where he’d stored it. Dad and Mom sent me the small octagonal disk they’d had for it, and I slipped it in. The ship works.”

“Can it fly?” she asked, oddly excited. Even after knowing Will for a year and seeing all he could do, including fly himself, she just never got over all the surprises that came with him.

“It was meant for me as a baby. It’s very tiny, and, even if it weren’t, well, I grew up knowing I was the last. It sucks, but even if I could fit in it, there’s nowhere to go.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So am I, and you don’t even know how much.”

“Will, you have good friends and a family that loves you, especially Ollie even if you’re not really speaking much.”

“I know, but thanks to him, if I’m not with my parents or the Swans, Lex will grab me. I just…you have no idea what the ship’s message said.”

“There was one?”

Will nodded and looked down at his hands. “It said ‘Rule them with strength.’”

Chloe’s throat went dry. She had to have misheard him. “What?”

“It said ‘On this planet, third from the star Sol, you will be a god among men. They’re a flawed race. Rule them with strength, my son.’” Will looked back at her and his eyes were red, and she flinched despite herself. He rarely lost control over his heat vision and she’d seen it set lamps on fire before. “They sent me here to conquer the human race.”

“No, they wouldn’t. That’s nuts!”

“Why would it be nuts? I’m invulnerable and can blast as hot as a damn nuclear explosion. We know, Patricia tested.”

“I…”

“I’m stronger than A.C. and Victor combined, and I can freeze someone like liquid nitrogen with a breath. My family, all the families, were right. I’m supposed to invade.”

“But there aren’t other Kryptonians that we know of. What’s the point?”

“That we know of,” he countered standing and starting to pace. He was doing it so fast that he blurred to her vision. “What if that’s how Krypton decided to survive? What if sent a lot of children like me out to different planets to make an empire? Hell, what if they sent more than one sometimes? I…what kind of planet was I from?”

“You know this. It was smart and advanced and had science that makes us look like chimps, okay? They’re not just…Christ, you’re only in your twenties. Did they expect you to read that in preschool and get started?”

“See, now you’re beginning to believe me, see it my way.”

“I’m not seeing it anyway. I’m just saying that it has to be wrong. You read it wrong.”

“Patty reads it as well as Dr. Swan ever did.”

“Then it’s wrong. Will,” she said, standing and reaching out for him. He stopped and she put her hand on his cheek, well aware that Oliver wouldn’t like that. “You’re the bravest person I know. There’s no way you’re supposed to rule the world.”

He frowned, and when he spoke, his voice still came in ragged breaths, his eyes still burned like a demons. “You can’t know that because I don’t know that.”

“I have faith in you then, and Oliver’s not wrong. You can do so much good. Fuck your birth family. Your real family knows you’re a hero, exactly what you could be. Why don’t you just join the League?”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m supposed to rule the world, right? Be some alien monster!” he flinched then and cursed as he accidentally set the curtains on fire. “Fuck!”

She stepped away as he put them out, barehanded as always. “You’re not. You’ve never done anything but be the responsible brother who ran Queen Industries, and the lost kid looking through moldy records. You have gifts and, like I said, who cares? Parents want crazy things all the time. My mom left me, and Dad always wanted me to go into something more stable than reporting, what with all the papers going under.”

“This is different. It wants me to be a dictator.”

“They’re dead.”

“Believe me,” Will said, turning to look at her. “I know that. I’ve known it since I was eighteen and my parents told me and Ollie both why I was so different. There’s not a day that goes by, not a freaking minute where I don’t know it. Now, I wish I’d never been sent here.”

Chloe rolled her eyes and reached up to him, this time placing a hand on either side of his face. “Listen to me. You’re a good man and don’t even start in on semantics. Penny, Patricia, the League? We all see it. _I_ see it.”

“Not enough,” he muttered.

She licked her lips but didn’t back away, even now that she’d gotten his attention. “Are you in love with me?”

“You love Oliver.”  


“That’s not what I asked.”

Large green eyes finally looked back at her, so wide and innocent, and she had no idea how to protect him from such a terrible legacy left behind. “Of course, I am. How could you even question that?”

“I…” And then Chloe kissed him. She knew it was wrong, that it would hurt Ollie, probably hurt Will too, but he’d always been so easy to talk to, so sweet and patient, everything Oliver wasn’t. Jesus, she’d fallen in love with both Queen Brothers and now she had no idea what to do about it.

Will solved her problem by speeding to the other side of the room. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Oliver betrayed me once, put my identity on a computer Lex hacked and ruined my freedom. But he’s still my brother and I love him. I’m not going to steal you from him.”

“I didn’t…I have no idea what I’m feeling, Will, but I care a lot about you. So please, come out of this room and help Justice for me. Hell, give it a month. Prove me wrong and come back.”

“Prove you wrong how?”

She narrowed her eyes at him and put her hands on her hips. “I think you’re a hero, that you could do more than even the GA ever imagined.”

“I’m a monster.”

“No, no moping and being a coward in a room.”

“A coward? Excuse me?”

“It’s not noble to hide here, it’s pathetic. You want to prove you deserve to be on Earth, then fucking do it. We fight everyday against men like Lex and you do nothing. So, Will, you want to earn your honorary human race card?”

  
“That’s low, Sunshine.”

“No, it’s what _you_ think. You want to prove yourself worth being here, then fucking do it already because, yeah, Oliver’s impulsive and flashy and sometimes way wrong but at least he does something.”

“Oh he definitely does something.”

She stalked back over to him and slapped him. He rolled with the motion as she knew he would; otherwise, her hand would have shattered. “Fuck you, Will. I’m not some pawn or toy for you two to fight over. Oliver actually _told_ me he had feelings. You gave me one kiss on the cheek and then acted like it never happened. You want to be human that badly? We do things, we care about more than ourselves and we keep trying even if we do it wrong. You want to be an alien? Stay here and be closed off and aloof. It seems to be making you happy so far.”

“I’m scared,” he said, looking away.

Chloe stopped, some of her own rage at his crack abating. “What?”

“I’m scared. What if one day I do decide it’s more fun to rule, to order people around? What if really using my powers becomes too addictive? Chlo, I just can’t.”

She sighed and kissed his cheek and ignored the heat vision returning to his gaze. Chloe wasn’t stupid, and she was beginning to realize that it wasn’t just rage that set that ability off. “Then you’ll always be alone. If you want me so badly, if you want a life that badly, you have to stop hiding.”  


And with that, she walked out of his room and back to Star City. After all, Watchtower was needed even if Will wasn’t.

**

  1. **Through the Looking Glass, and What Alice Saw There**



Clark Luthor wasn’t sure what the Hell he was doing.

He was an alien. He’d always known that. His late father had made no secret of it, taught him what was deemed necessary about his heritage to help him be as powerful as possible as Ultraman (read eliminate all enemies Lionel needed dead). Then Clark Kent had bumbled into his life, and there was something depressing in self-awareness. Life before was fun, was thrilling. He snapped the neck of anyone who bothered him, and a large part of him still liked that. But then there’d been the mirror image of himself, the thought that he could have been loved as a child, treated well, and grown into a hero.

Then Jor-El’s training.

While Clark now knew Krypton’s history and that he was supposed to be some Messiah for the human race---wow did the wrong candidate get picked there---he had fuck all idea how to do it. All he knew was that he needed to do it as far from Metropolis as possible, far from where he’d ruined the lives of hundreds of people, where Oliver Queen’s blood among so many others was on his hands.

That was a new one. He was half-convinced the A.I. had made him feel it, implanted it in him as some cruel trick. Now, even if a large part of him craved the satisfaction of violence, the other side of himself was repulsed by what he’d done. It was a good thing he no longer needed sleep because he couldn’t without nightmares about all the people he’d killed. So, by day, Clark Luthor had assumed an alias. After all, with the right amount of money (as the only legitimate heir of LuthorCorp left alive he had that), he could start fresh. “Calvin Ellis” nominally had an apartment and a social security number, everything secured at a high price. But he didn’t do anything. Jobs were pointless, Clark didn’t need the money, and it would be impossible to be out and about too much. People would recognize Clark Luthor, would know from Smallville how to kill Ultraman on sight. A bad haircut and glasses couldn’t cover everything up.

_Thanks, Queen_.

So he patrolled at night, stopping rapes and muggings and bank robberies in New York, but not sure that was what Jor-El wanted, and definitely positive it wasn’t enough to even begin to change the balance in his ledger. But tonight, tonight was different. Tonight, Clark realized he wasn’t alone. He’d felt followed or watched the last week, but now he was sure of it, could hear the other’s heartbeat near him.

He didn’t even look back over his shoulder from where he hovered just above the roof. But he did speak, “You’ve been following me for a while.”

“Yes,” the voice that answered back was feminine and small, a husky alto that made Clark remember that murder wasn’t the only sin he sometimes still longed to commit.

Turning, finally, he found a girl staring back at him. She was dressed all in black from head to toe, even had a knit ski mask pulled over her face. She was short, nowhere near Lois or Tess’s heights, but her green eyes were sharp. She might be a crazy person or a thief or who knew what, but she wasn’t stupid.

“Who are you?”

“Fawkes,” she said.  


He rolled his eyes. “So you’re a bird or you’re a celebrated anarchist?”

“A lot of both,” she replied. “You’re Clark Luthor, aren’t you?”

He landed but stayed where he was, amused that she’d come this close to him. Anyone else who’d figured out what he was would have run or been brandishing Kryptonite like vampire hunters and their garlic. “The one and only. I guess my reputation even spread to New York.”

“Of course. You ran a reign of terror in Metropolis for five years, murdered my cousin’s fiancé.”

He blinked. Oh shit, had she tracked him down? “Your Lois Lane’s cousin.”

“In the flesh,” she said, pulling out a grey lead box from her pocket. “I haven’t seen her since we were kids, but everyone knows what you are now, how to harm you. The meteor rocks are cheap enough to send away for. I mean, there’s a stand everywhere in that burnt out town, tourist crap. I always carry, in case.”

Clark fired up his heat vision, not sure what he’d do. He promised Clark Kent and the Fortress both that he’d never kill again, but he wasn’t sure that he could hold that up if it meant being taken alive to the cops or the government. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” she said, her grip still firm on the box. “I’ve been following you for two weeks, and all I’ve seen you do is save people’s lives. Considering your reputation, I can’t figure out your game.”

“Maybe people change.”

She shook her head. “Monsters don’t.”

“No, I don’t suppose we’re allowed to,” he said, quirking his head at her. Sighing, he let the heat drain from his eyes. “You know what I am and all I’ve done. So you know that I can kill you where I stand before you even open that damn box. You’re a fool for even announcing yourself, Fawkes.”

“You’ve known I was tailing you for at least a week, started changing up your patterns. I wasn’t going to get the drop. Besides,” she said, pulling off her mask. Clark, even with all his upbringing from Lionel, couldn’t suppress his gasp. The face staring back at him would have been pretty, if not for the network of scars tracing over it. It looked almost like she’d been stitched back together from pieces. “You can’t kill me. People have tried before.”

“What are you?”

“A friend, now would you like to see my place or do we go to yours?”

**

Clark wasn’t sure what he expected from ‘Fawkes,’ but it had not included her slipping through a manhole cover and into the deepest tunnels of the sewers. It had taken everything he had not to hum a theme song about certain mutant turtles before they came to an abandoned subway tunnel that had been rehabbed into a surprisingly thorough base with not only creature comforts---electricity, internet, TVs---but also a massive computer system that seemed to be reading feeds of the city, things from the cops and EMS on files.

“Okay, so that’s interesting.”

Fawkes pulled off her black sweater as well and he winced noticing that the patchwork of jagged scars continued down her back and arms, at least from what he could see around her spaghetti strap top. Curious, he slipped into X-Ray vision and noted the look was everywhere, burned flesh, scarred skin, and the uneven cicatrixes from where she’d looked forced back into one piece.

“You done?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re X-Raying me. Look, the news has been thorough. You’re fast, can fly, can shoot lasers from your eyes, can blow or tornado or turn things to ice with a breath, see through things, have the best senses around, and are so strong that I bet that even you don’t know your limits. You’re checking me out, but it’s not sexual.” She turned back around and rolled those same sharp hazel eyes back at him. “No one’s looked at me that way since I was sixteen. I wouldn’t either.”

“Are you going to tell me who you are, what the fuck any of this is?”

“This is where I work from. New York is my city. I have a source in the N.Y.P.D., a John Jones, but I do the leg work for him on the cases that the law can’t touch. When there’s some, ahem, Justice needed, I dole that out too.”

“You’re a vigilante?” he asked, laughing. She wasn’t even big enough to ride certain roller coasters. That was a rich thought. “You’re hardly the Green Arrow.”

“He died, so I guess I’m better,” she finished, sitting down at her computer bank. “Also, _alien_ , don’t stare. It’s rude.”

“Ouch, duly noted,” he said, not sure why he hadn’t fried her where she stood, outside of promising Jor-El and the other Clark to do better. She was annoying and impossible to deal with already. Scratch that, now he was _sure_ she was Lane’s cousin. “So you fight crime minus the pizza and giant rat sensei, congratulations. Who are you?”

“Fawkes,” she said. “That’s who I am. Are you still ‘Ultraman’ these days?”

“I’m nobody,” Clark said, honestly. “I can’t ever be public again, but I get by on my own alias, and I do what I can.”

“You’ve had a Hell of a personality 180, care to share with the rest of the class?”

“You wouldn’t believe me.”

“I do. You have done more good for this city in two weeks than John and I have in two months. You’re different, and if I didn’t believe that, I’d have called people to your penthouse by now, Mr. Ellis, and had them haul your ass away.”

“You know?”

“I can hack, don’t patronize me,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “Look at it this way. You tell me what happened to make you St. Paul, and I’ll tell you about me, deal? I know you want to hear the vaunted story of my first death.”

He blinked, his surprise genuine. She’d said that a few times now, but it couldn’t be possible. Humans weren’t like him, they didn’t recover, and boy did he know he did. Father had been thorough in testing him as a teenager. Outside of enough green rocks, Clark was immortal. Jor-El had confirmed as much. He didn’t think he’d meet another of any kind.

“Fine, you’re going to think I’m a liar.”

“Hit me.”

“My double from a different universe used some of the alien technology we have access to and ended up blundering into my life. He gave me a pep talk and showed me my birthright and after some training with my biological father, I’m trying to do better.”

“You’re telling the truth,” she replied, shrugging.

“I expected someone as sharp as you are so far to disagree with me.”

She snorted. “It has to be true because no one would make up a stupider lie. Besides, Hawking among others proposes a multiverse theory and, alien right? What can’t your fucking planet do?”

“Seems I struck a nerve there, Frankenstein.”

Fawkes stood then and stalked back over to him. It might have been intimidating if she came up further than his chest. “Say that again.”

“You heard me, Frankenstein. Call me alien again, see what I do.”

There was a flash of gold colored light pouring from her hand, and it was so bright that even Clark had to squint to keep it from overwhelming him. Her hand was on his shoulder fast and he felt it, something sharp and biting, more painful than even the green Kryptonite lancing through him. His muscles spasmed and he fell to his knees gasping for breath.

The girl held him like that for a while before removing her hand. “Answer you well enough, Clark? Let’s stick to names. You won’t like it if you call me that other thing ever again. I promise.”

He frowned even as he stood up shakily. “Fuck, you never needed the Kryptonite at all. What the Hell are you?”

“Meteor mutant. Are you that dense?”

“A what?”

She rolled her eyes. “Are you kidding me? Your stupid space rocks mutate half of Smallville, give us more powers than a damn _X-Men_ comic, and you don’t even know.”  


“I’ve been a bit busy.”

“Murdering people for Daddy. I think I heard about that. Anyway, the Kryptonite is a mutagen. My power’s empathy.”  


He snorted. “Yeah, that felt loving.”

“It goes both ways, genius. I can heal or I can harm. If you’re dead and _human_ , I can bring you back. Bitch to do, as I have to die to do it, but you get used to it. Dunno if it’d work on something like you, not sure I care.”

“I like you too, midget.”

“My point is that I got too close as a kid at my high school paper to tracking things down about your father. My house exploded and I didn’t die. I should have, my father was blown to pieces, but I woke up looking like this and rushed over and saved him too. Died my second time doing it and rewoke up in a damn morgue drawer three days later, and that’s when my life really fell to shit.”  


Clark swallowed. He remembered her now. Chloe Sullivan, the nosy bitch from Smallville High that had been poking too close into land deals his father and Morgan Edge had made in together decades ago. He’d been the one to burn the house to nothing. He’d never thought of it since, but now, Jesus, what had he done?

“I…”

“Again, if I were going to kill you for making me the woman I am today, I’d have done it by now, Clark. I was definitely going to, but I think you’ve gone legit and someone with your raw power playing for our side is worth a lot more than vengeance for either me or Oliver Queen.”

“But you said you heal.”

“I do and Daddy healed great, thanks for asking. I guess my power has some limits. It’s knitted me back together more than once since high school but I don’t look pretty when it does. Although, I was pretty much hamburger after you blew my house up,” she said, shrugging. “You’re really dumb, you know. How long you swallowed Lionel’s lies and bullshit, how long you were Father’s good little lap dog?”

“I’m the last legitimate Luthor heir. I didn’t love the bastard, but he was my father.”

“You were his pet, the pit bull he brought home. After all, Queen told Lois about what really happened. Lionel got scared of you, tried to kill you.”

“No, he took Clark Kent to the Watchtower, surely he thought that he needed to get rid of the impostor.”

Chloe laughed long and hard. “He couldn’t control you enough anymore. Took home a damn pet tiger and realized it could bite, Clark. It doesn’t matter if it was the wrong one that time, he meant to kill you and Oliver shot him first before he could…well, apparently kill the _other_ Clark. The point is? Lionel was a shitty thing to waste your bid for humanity on. He would have killed you if he could have and he _did_ murder Lutessa and his parents. That’s where he and Edge got their seed money.” She shook her head. “If you’d have let me just expose him, all three of you---Lex included---would be alive and healthy and out from under his thumb.”

Clark sat down hard on the floor. In his flight from the hordes of Metropolis and his training, he hadn’t realized about Tess. He knew Lionel had captured her, that she’d moved too early on her plans, but he didn’t know that the old Bastard had actually gone through with such a deed.

“No.”

Chloe frowned, confusion coloring her eyes for the first time. “You didn’t know?”

“No, I was training and on the run. I figured Dad had Tess sent away, but are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“I…no.” Was all he could say. They’d been siblings first and lovers for almost a decade. He’d promised her they’d run someday, far from Lionel and everything else. He hadn’t loved her the way she’d loved him, not been nearly as loyally, but he had cared for her both as a sister and as something more. He figured he had time to find a way back to Metropolis to save her. “I loved her.”

“I’m sorry. I know you and your sister were close. I honestly thought you knew.”

“She was all I had my whole life.”

Chloe frowned and then her eyes widened. “Oh, you knew her biblically didn’t you?”

“Yes, and she deserved better. She was the only Luthor who wasn’t a complete monster.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Why would you be? I killed your cousin’s fiancé and ruined your entire life. Only a technicality keeps you alive now.”

“Because it would suck to be you, to have grown up as Lionel’s perfect slave and never really known the difference. Everything anyone ever told you until that Clark Kent of yours showed up was a lie, and the only person who ever gave a damn you existed is dead. I can get that’s awful, and I’m sorry for it.”

“Could you fix her?”

Chloe shook her head, “I can’t. I’ve learned the hard way---please don’t ask---that it’s a twenty-four hour limit. Tess has been dead for six months.”

“I see,” he said, not sure of what to say. He knew later he’d fly to the Fortress, see if Jor-El could be bargained with, if the machine had any solutions, but before that he’d fly to the Pacific Northwest and uproot redwoods. He needed to get through the rage currently consuming him. “Then where do we go from here, Chloe?”

“I’ll call John in the morning, explain what’s happened and then you join the team, if you’d like. You do anything wrong, slip up at all, and we’ll both call the authorities on you. But if you really want to make amends, we could use you.”

“Fine, sounds doable,” he said, starting back to the entrance to leave. He paused at the threshold of the tunnels and turned back to her. She really did have the most beautiful eyes. She’d have been pretty once, but he stole that from her. “I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t mean a damn thing, not ten years after the fact, and I know it can’t cure it, but if I could change it, I would.”

Chloe shook her head and turned back to her monitors. “I don’t have time for pity, _alien_ , just come back tomorrow.”

“Fine, Frankenstein, have a nice night.

**

  1. **Clark Kent, Babysitter**



“Does any of this make more sense?” Chloe asked, after showing him the flow chart explaining the Big Seven of the League and the accompanying charts to explain the Teen Titans. “You’re getting a better feel for who is who now, right?”

Clark nodded, and at least some names like A.C. or Victor or Bart (all part of the so-called “Seven”) were familiar. Wonder Woman, Batman, Arrow, and The Manhunter he didn’t know, but at least some things were the same. Looking back at his friend, okay, at the woman he loved but he couldn’t say that to her, Clark noticed those damn crows’ feet in the corners of her eyes. Some things were definitely different. Three months ago, _to him_ , he’d fought Milton Fine and spent two days trapped in the Phantom Zone. For everyone else, fifteen years had passed. His mom sold the farm and now lived and owned The Talon, her interest in politics falling apart with his “loss.” The Justice League was huge and had a spin-off group of teens working with it, and Chloe was married with a five year old son.

And, for him, it didn’t feel all that long ago that they were kissing like they were the only people on the planet during Dark Thursday.

Still, she’d moved on with her life, seemed happy as a mother, wife, star reporter for the Planet, _and_ a consultant for the League. With as busy as she was, Clark was lucky Chloe could make time for a little old Talon cashier like him. Of course, even if they were still nominally best friends, even with all the latest weirdness between them, Chloe had ulterior motives.

She wanted him to join with her heroes.

Clark still refused. He’d lost fifteen years, and he wasn’t about to lose anymore or his whole life for this. He owed his mother better than that. Yes, he’d saved her and Christopher, her son, a couple months back from Metallo and, okay, he might shadow Chloe when she patrolled Metropolis herself and there was that one time he might have sat with her in Watchtower during a dimensional rift, but that was it. He had only promised to make sure Chloe didn’t get herself killed and leave Christopher motherless.

Other than that, let the dozens of other superheroes handle it.

“So, you know you could start smaller,” she offered. “If it’s too weird being around the guys even with them being, uh.”

“Grown,” he offered, not that he wasn’t almost twenty. “So you think I should be a Titan.”

“Well they tend to handle the second line stuff and we’re on speed dial to bail them out. Dick Grayson’s incredibly competent and Barbara’s a hacker so good she makes me look pathetic. You could do worse,” she hedged, her bright eyes gleaming back at him and he felt like back last Christmas---no, the last Christmas they’d shared _fifteen_ years ago---when she conned him into delivering toys.

Well fat chance.

Chloe could give him those big green eyes all she wanted. Clark was not going back to heroing.

“What then, Chlo? I get some spandex and a code name? This is not for me.”

“‘Boy Scout’ has a ring to it,” she countered, frowning when her front door started to open. She leapt up fast and checked her watch. “Damn it, George isn’t supposed to be home yet.”

Clark frowned, not sure if that was a bad thing or not that he was as hidden from her husband as her League life and superheroing. If he were a better man, he’d encourage Chloe to be at least honest about him, make up some bullshit about knowing his mom well first, but he wasn’t. He liked that he was private, even if it was probably because she lumped him in with JLA secrets more than because it was romantic.

After all, it never had been between them before.

“I should go,” he said, heading to the fire escape window.

It was then that Christopher called out already from the hall. “Daddy! Mom’s in the study with Clark.”

_Oh shit_.

“Your son, wonder where that big mouth comes from,” Clark snapped.

Chloe narrowed her eyes at him. “Just get the layouts hidden, okay. I have a plan.”

“You better because this looks kind of awful.”  


“Chloe, honey?” A masculine voice called out. “Are you in the office?”

Clark rolled his eyes but hid the files as she’d asked in a breeze that was still stirring her hair just a bit when George walked in, Christopher balanced on his hip. Clark wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but he was pretty sure this was _not_ it. Frankly, he and Clark could have been brothers. While Clark was both broader and had a few inches on the other man, they looked more than similar---same dark, wavy hair, green eyes, and strong chins. Hell, he even had a day job saving people.

He eyed Chloe for just a moment. She was incredibly transparent.

She didn’t even look back at him but instead beamed back at her husband. “Honey, you’re home!”

Clark wanted to laugh. This was the most surreal part of his coming home. His mom was so much older, his friends were all full time superheroes, and the technology was all beyond him, but there was no way in Hell Chloe had ever gotten home enough to channel her inner housewife.

George kissed her cheek but kept his eyes planted on Clark. “So I didn’t know we had company.” He reached out and shook Clark’s hand. “George Dean.”

“I know,” he said, not sure about what else he had to follow it.

Chloe smiled and started in on a lie that shocked him. “You know how we’ve been looking for a sitter for Christopher?”  


The boy in question glared up at Chloe and Clark chuckled at the display. He even scowled like his mother, that same defiant chin held out. “I’m old enough to take care of myself.”

“Well, buddy, that’s true,” Chloe started, “And you do a great job with a lot of things.”

“I can brush my teeth and put on my jammies.”

“Sure, but the state of Kansas would prefer if you were thirteen before I left you alone so we’re going to have to get a sitter.”

“Maybe, but we’ll talk about it,” he said, nodding and curling into George’s grasp.

“Huh, so is Clark the only applicant?”

“No, I’ve had a few from a site that were referred to me. I admit Clark has a bit of a sweetened pot. He’s Martha Kent’s nephew so he already has a great reference.”

George brightened at that. “Do you bake as well as she does?”

“Actually,” Clark said, blushing a little. “I learned a lot from her. I can do pie really well.”

“Then you’re hired. I don’t know what she puts in the apple, but I’m addicted,” he said, stepping back out of the room.

Clark just turned and glared at Chloe when he was gone. “Are you serious? ‘Aunt Martha?’ And I am not really a babysitter. I colored once with Maddie and that’s pretty much it.”

“You and Ryan and Evan were pretty adorable too,” she countered. “Look, did you have a better cover story because ‘he’s going to be a Titan’ doesn’t really work.”  


“First, that’s not what I said. I’m not interested in being a hero, and you know that. Second, I can’t just babysit!”

“Why not?”

“Huh?”

“Why not? You’re not going to let him eat tons of sugar and watch R movies. You’re so responsible, it’s unreal, Clark. Besides, you know that no one could keep him safer better. Say someone like Metallo broke in again. I…would you?”

Clark wanted to say no. The last thing he wanted was to facilitate Chloe bonding with George in any way, but Chloe wasn’t wrong. If someone from the Legion of Doom (thank you flow charts) broke in on a regular sitter, Christopher wouldn’t have a chance and he had promised her and himself to take care of them both.

“Fine, but if you ask me to do something super crazy again like being Santa, then I already reserve the right to refuse.”

“Deal.”

**

“That’s nice,” his mother said, when he told her about how Chloe had railroaded him

“It’s awkward.”

“Not as awkward since Christopher knows about you.”

Clark stabbed at his pie and flinched when a bit of the plate chipped. “That makes him one of the few. I mean, you should have heard her ‘Martha’s nephew,’ ugh.”  


“It’s less suspicious than son, I’d think. He knows how old I am.”

Clark sighed and pushed his plate away. There went his appetite for the day. In a way, he’d known this day was coming, when the people he loved aged and he didn’t. Cassandra Carver and Jordan had told him as much, but he thought it would take longer. Losing fifteen years was so unfair, and he was sick of adding lies onto the usual ones he had to tell anyway to keep his secret secured.

“Maybe, but I wish I wasn’t the on call guy for when Chloe goes on dates. That’s…it’s not for me.”

  
His mom narrowed her eyes at him, and Clark shrugged. “What?”

“I know what’s going on. I should have figured it out sooner, but you were always so gone on Lana. But that last year, you spent so much time with her, working together. Were you in love with her before you got stuck?”

Clark stood up and headed to the futon. With his back turned, he just shrugged again. “No, Mom, of course not. I’m just not sure why she thought I’d be a good sitter. Never mind. There are five a.m. deliveries and one of us should sleep so we can be up and ready for them.”

**

“Will you show me your powers?” Christopher asked and those sharp green eyes were unmistakable. He'd seen them light up in delight in the loft when Chloe was high on the parasite and he’d shown her everything about himself. “They’re pretty neat.”

“How many of your mom’s, uh, special friends have you met?” he asked, leaning back in the sofa’s thick cushions.

“Well, sometimes Uncle Bart comes and there’s Aunt Diana. She can fly. Ooh, can you fly?”

“Not really.”

“What does that mean?”

Clark ran his hands through his hair and remembered that Chloe never shut up either. “I float in my sleep, but I can’t really control it. Maybe someday, but I’ve never been able to figure it out.”

“But you’re fast and strong so that’s pretty cool.”

“I guess.”

Christopher crawled over the couch and sat on his lap. “I still don’t get how you know Mom so well. She’s pretty old.”

“No, she’s not.”

“She’s older than you!”

“Yes, that’s true now, but she wasn’t always.”

“Is that one of your powers?”

Clark sighed. “Don’t you just want to watch the Disney channel? I think your mom said you had Candyland too.”

“You don’t need to deflect things,” he replied.

Clark blinked. “You’re five.”

“Mom reads to me a lot. You didn’t answer my question. Are you younger because that’s a power?”

“Maybe there’s more pizza---”

“Uncle Clark, I’m going to be an even better reporter than Mommy someday so you should just answer me now.”

Clark looked down at his hands for a long time. “There are a lot of things about me that I don’t understand. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to age, but, technically, I got stuck somewhere for a really long time and it was only two days for me, but it was fifteen years for everyone else.”

“Wow!”

“Yeah, so I remember your mom in college super well. It feels like a few months ago, and it’s pretty weird, alright?”

“But you like being back, right?”

“I hated where I was, and I missed my mom and yours a lot.”

“But you’re sad a lot too.”

Clark frowned back at him. “Really, you don’t have something you want to see on Netflix?”

Christopher rolled his eyes and it was all very déjà vu for him. “I know you like my mom.”

“Of course I do. We’re best friends.”

“No, like the kind of way you want to kiss her like on TV. I can tell.”

“You’re still five.”

“I’m smart. I read at a third grade level. Mommy really loves Daddy. She doesn’t talk about her special friends and the superheroes with him but that’s okay because that’s a secret, just for us.”

“Okay, so what are you saying, buddy?”  
  
“Uncle Clark, you’re really nice but you’re not my dad.”

“I’m aware.”

Christopher nodded and started rummaging through the entertainment center after that. “Good because I wouldn’t like that at all.”

**

Chloe sat out on the fire escape and he sat down next to her. He’d ostensibly left an hour ago, and she’d gone to her office to work. Instead, here they were with her son and husband tucked up and sleeping not ten feet from them.

“He was tuckered out when I got home. What happened?”

“We watched _The Incredibles_ , and then built with Legos, and finally I played a guessing game.”

“Okay, I’ll bite.”

“Well, he wanted to know more about my powers and I mentioned X-Ray vision. So he kept hiding things in his hands and I’d tell him what it was.”

“That would explain what my car keys were doing in his bedroom. Smooth, Clark.”

“It zonked him out,” he said. “So I guess I’ll be the regular guy?”

“Yeah, it’s…thank you. I know he’s safe when you’re here, and that means a lot.” Chloe burrowed into his side a little, and he stood up faster than she could have seen. She fell forward a little but caught herself. “What the Hell, Clark?”

“I can’t do this again.”

“Why not?”

He grabbed the railing and groaned when it bent under his grasp. “Damn it. I can’t do this because, yeah, Christopher likes me but he was pretty pointed about stuff.”

“What stuff?”

“He already has a dad. Fuck it; he’s _right_. He has a dad and you have a husband and, as much as George and I look alike, we’re not interchangeable.”  


“Excuse me?”

He rolled his eyes. “You seriously never noticed how much we look alike? Come on, Chlo. It’s obvious. I was gone, and I don’t blame you, but it’s not the same anymore. You have a life and you chose a pretty good one and now I’m back and it can’t be like it was. I want it to be, God you have no idea how much, but it can’t be, and it eats me alive to think of it.”  


“We can still be friends. Yeah, I have to think of ways around odd questions but that’s par for the course with Clark Kent. You’re my best friend. Always have been, always will be.”

He leaned down then and kissed her cheek. “I don’t want only that, but I’m not ruining a family. Chlo, I love you, but I can’t have you, not anymore. So maybe it’s best if we didn’t see each other again.” He didn’t want to hear her after that, hear her justifications or the twisted reasoning that they could still hang out. It hurt too much.

He wished even as he arrived back at The Talon, that his superhearing didn’t default to Chloe every time, especially since he could hear her crying all the way in Metropolis.

**

  1. **Ray Bradbury Style**



Clark blinked awake a groaned. He’d done it again, woken up in the middle of the bed, and he meant that literally. His mom was already pounding on the door because he was running late, and Clark had no interest in her walking in on him stuck like this.

“Uh, coming, I’m getting changed!”

“Clark, you missed the bus again. Get some food fast and get on the way, honey.”

“I will!” he called, groaning to himself and concentrating. On days like this, he was just glad his bed was slightly lofted. It took a few seconds of concentrating, but he felt that odd hollow feeling seep through his system and he just fell the rest of the way through the bed’s railing. “I hate my life.”

As far as everyone else was concerned, Clark was that shy kid in the back of the class who never really said much, a farm kid like a lot of the others. He just wished that were true. See while everyone thought he was normal, he was anything but. He’d just started high school but had a few disparate powers. He’d always been fast, had been playing tag with his father when he’d ended up in Gotham and crying to a local cop there until his parents were called. He was strong too, served now as a better jack for the tractor than the actual one even if he wasn’t yet fifteen. He wished that were all of it. If it were, he’d just cling to the hope he had some bizarre adrenaline or glandular problem. But last summer, after his growth spurt, thing got interesting. After a really good dream about Lana Lang, he’d woken up a few feet _above_ his mattress. He’d crashed right after waking up and couldn’t repeat the process if his life depended on it awake but, somehow, the laws of gravity were more like suggestions for him. That wasn’t even so bad. No, if he had, well, good dreams he floated. When he had nightmares, he sank. “Sank” wasn’t necessarily the best word for it. He could phase through matter. Last July he’d been carrying too many groceries in from the car, not been paying attention to where he was going and only stopped to reverse direction when his mom and dad were gaping at him.

There he was, transparent like a ghost in an old movie, and he was standing in the middle of the island.

It had been both terrifying and embarrassing. Clark could control that one enough if he tried, but he rarely used it. Strength and speed he could deal with---hell the speed was fun---but he didn’t like the other things he could do. They felt too weird to even begin to explain. Speaking of speed, Clark rolled out from under his bed and sped into his clothes and down the stairs. Mom already had his toast and juice out and he wolfed them both down so fast that she didn’t even realize he was there until he came out of his speed.

She jumped a little and brought a hand to her chest. “You’re going to give yourself indigestion doing that, honey.”  


“Never have before,” he said, grinning a little and then he groaned again when the clock read 7:59 a.m. He was fast but he couldn’t run backwards in time. “Oh man. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not okay, but if you were having bad dreams again---”

“No,” he lied grabbing his backpack. “It was fine really.”

“Clark, if you’re having a bad time with something, you can always tell me and your father.”

“I know, Mom,” he said, offering her his best smile. “I just have to go.”

With a blur he was off, trying to push away the dreams from last night. They were always the same anyway. He’d had them since he was small, not too long after the Kents had adopted him. They were bizarre, never made much sense. He was sitting in the middle of some red, dry desert and watching huge green scaly monsters with red eyes tear apart white ones that looked basically the same except for their skin. But the dreams always felt so real, like he could smell flesh burning. It was why even though he was a freshmen in high school, he still had a night light. This year it was Elmer Fudd.

Clark skidded to a stop around the edge of the building and started walking out like everything was normal. It didn’t take long to spot Chloe hopping off the school bus. His friend seemed to live for wearing loud outfits in a riot of colors and huge chunky jewelry. She stuck out from the crowd every day, the way he would if he actually used his powers in public. You could take the girl out of Metropolis, but couldn’t take the cosmopolitan weirdness out of one Chloe Sullivan.

She rolled her eyes when she saw him. “Your mom so did not get you here that fast. I know you missed the bus.”

“We have a good short cut.”

“From out by the farms, through a worm hole, sure Clark,” she said. “Also, Pete’s at morning football practice, getting his inner tackle dummy on so that’s why he’s not here. I swear since he made the team, it’s like we never see him.”

Clark sighed and kept pace with her. “Football’s not bad at all. My dad was cornerback, and he loved it.”

“You don’t play so obviously you know it’s for jockstraps and Neanderthals.”

“No, I don’t play because of the, uh, asthma.” Clark flinched a little saying that.

It was his excuse not to have gym class. The truth was he’d hurt the other kids, and then everyone would know. Of course, as his parents reminded him daily, if anyone ever figured out what he could do, he’d be in a lab. So he was Clark Kent, nerd extraordinaire, even if he could win every game literally by himself.

“But you have to know it’s all barbaric bullshit and hazing. You’re better off at The Torch.”

“There’s hazing there too. I’m basically your butt monkey,” he said, and then stopped as he spied Lana Lang walking around the building.

 He wanted to find some stupid reason to chase after her, but Chloe would just make fun of him for it. Lana was part of the school rebel crowd. Her parents had died in the meteor shower and while her aunt had taken her in, she’d never gotten over it. She was a hardcore smoker among other things, and, maybe a little, Clark wished she’d notice him and then he could get her into more wholesome things, save her before she flushed her life away for that druggie Whitney Fordman.

Chloe must have had radar for this. He was not that transparent no matter what she said. “Huh, so Lana’s been sighted.”

“Maybe.”  


“You get this big puppy dog look on your face, and it’s too cute. You should just go talk to her. She doesn’t even know you’re alive, Clark.”  


“That’s not true,” he said as they picked up walking again. “I borrowed a pen from her in bio two weeks ago and then once I caught her smoking under the bleachers and threw up near her. Thus she knows I exist.”

“She must be swooning.”

“Ugh, it’s not my fault fire makes me really nervous. Pyrophobia is actually pretty common.”

Chloe snickered as they entered The Torch office. “At least it’s not coulrophobia. You’re odd enough, Clark, you so don’t need the help with fear of clowns.”

“Funny, Chlo. I just…Pete can be on the team so he’s cool by proxy even if he bench warms, and Lana’s aloof, that whole rebel without a cause thing and every guy likes her.”  


“Oh, I’m aware,” Chloe said.

He tried to ignore her bitterness. “Chloe, Lana’s not that bad.”

“She’s so Miss Kansas State Penn 2002,” she sing-songed. “I just think you could do better.”

He frowned. “Like who?”

Clark frowned and rubbed at his temples. Chloe’s lips hadn’t moved but he’d heard her. It was bizarre, but when wasn’t he, and he’d heard her thoughts in his head. Oh God, let him be wrong. The last thing he needed was another stupid power.

“Clark, are you okay?”

“Sure, look I have to get to bio but I’m good to help you after school with that investigation thing at Loeb Bridge. You promised you’d explain that. I…lunch right?”

“Of course,” she said, smiling. “See you soon.”

As he wandered back out the door, he wished he hadn’t heard her second thought. It would have been easier to convince himself he was mistaken if he hadn’t heard it again.

_One day, Clark, maybe you’ll see how good you really are._

**

“So,” he said, leaning against the railing at Loeb Bridge and looking down at the waters below. “The fish have feet now?”

“They went total Springfield.”

“Huh?”

“The Simpsons? That three eyed fish cause of the nuclear power plant run off?”

“We don’t have a power plant, and I don’t think fertilizer is a mutagen.”

Chloe frowned. “I think the meteor rocks _are_.”

He quirked his head at her. “But the EPA said that they don’t cause cancer.”

“I didn’t say that. I said that they’re mutagens. I think that the meteor shower, all that debris from Mars? I think that was the day the town went schizo.”

“Like what? Superpowers, Chlo? That’s crazy.”

Clark tried to keep his breathing even. If he got too upset, sometimes he’d phase out. The last thing he needed was for that to happen in front of Smallville’s answer to Woodward and Bernstein. Except what she was saying was the first thing that made sense. He had way too many powers to be even a weird adrenaline thing. He knew that, but if the Martian rock fragments changed people…maybe they’d changed him.

“Is it? Clark, everyone knows weird stuff happens here. Two years ago there was that robbery where the criminal tore the whole vault door off its hinges. Missy Taylor in math class last year went freaking invisible. No one ever talks about these things because Smallville has a massive denial going on, but something weird has happened and more weird stuff keeps happening. I have some files on it, but no one listens. Maybe if we start with the fauna in Hobb’s Pond down there, it’ll mean something.”

“Are there are lot of people you’ve heard of?”

“My mechanic can stretch really well, can reach a wrench from three feet away. I think Danny on the swim team has gills. There aren’t a ton, but I’ve noticed a few.”

_Like you_.

Clark swallowed and pushed that voice away. He didn’t want to deal with nascent telepathy then, just didn’t. “Well, I don’t have to be home till five anyway, so this is better than barn chores.”

“You say that now,” she started.

Clark saw it all like it was slow motion: the way the cable on the truck rolling past snapped, the barbed wire roll flying toward them. He grabbed her shoulder then and concentrated, just working on instinct. The hollow feeling went through him and he phased, but this time the contact to Chloe and his concentration took her with him. The barbed wire rolled through them harmlessly.

She jumped up then, staring at him with wide confused eyes.

Panicked, Clark stood up and then he blinked. His vantage point felt weird. He’d always been taller than Chloe, but now it felt ridiculous, like he was too much higher than she was.

_Chlo?_ He stopped, completely confused. Clark hadn’t “said” anything. _Wait, what’s going on?_

Chloe’s eyes were so wide then that he thought they’d pop out of her head. “Clark, you have to go. You’re fast right? I mean besides all you just did, there really is a reason you beat the bus every day.”

_Yeah, I am fast, and you can’t tell anyone what I did. I was trying to protect you and why do I sound weird?_

“You’re not, uh, talking.”

_Of course I am. You can hear me_.

“That’s a generous use of the term,” she said, her eyes brimming with tears. “Look, you have to go because this is an accident and they’re going to call the cops to fix the road and get the barbed wire out and you can’t be here.”

_Why not?_

Chloe sighed and pulled out a compact from her purse. “Look, don’t shoot the messenger. You saved my life and you’re my best friend so I don’t care, I promise, but you can’t let _anyone_ see you like this?”

_Like what!_

She sighed and flipped the mirror open for him. He wanted to throw up at the sight he saw. His face wasn’t staring back at him. Instead, it was the same tall, white scaled aliens from his nightmares, right down to the piercing red eyes.

It was him.

“Clark,” she said, her voice piercing through his panic. “You have to go home. I’ll see you later, but you cannot be here.”

_Chlo---_

“Go!”

He already heard the sirens in the distance, so confused and scared as Hell, he sped off to the farm.

**

_Mom! Mom! You have to help me!_ he said, skidding to a stop in the kitchen.

He’d tried to change back once he’d gotten to the safety of the farm, but he’d had no idea how. Now he couldn’t do it. He was just seven feet tall and as white as ever. When he stepped into the house, his mom took one look at him and started to cry, but her reaction wasn’t everything he’d expected.

“I was afraid this day would come.”

He quirked his head at her even as she came over and hugged him. _Mom?_

“I’m so sorry,” she said, even as she hugged him tightly and he was beyond confused but grateful for it because he figured she had every right to run screaming. He certainly wanted to, but you couldn’t escape yourself. “You father and I thought we had more time before we had to tell you.”

Clark pulled away from her and walked to the couch. Sliding down onto it, he considered putting his head in his hands but stopped. He didn’t want to touch any part of himself or have the strange whiteish skin through back in his face. _I don’t get what’s going on_.

“Clark, baby, I wish your dad wasn’t running errands in Granville. It’s just…we wanted to tell you together but first you were too young to understand and then we didn’t want to scare you.”

_Well mission **not** accomplished_ , he huffed. _What is going on?_

His mother took both his hands in hers and squeezed them. “We lied about your adoption. We didn’t get you from Metropolis a few days after the shower.”

_Where did you get me?_ he asked, his heart thundering but he knew already the answer. There had to be only one, didn’t there?

“The shower. You came that day with everything else. Our truck crashed on the way home from buying some flowers at Nell’s. Then there was a gas leak and we were trapped. I thought we were going to die and then the doors of the truck were torn off and there you were. I…you were tiny, a toddler, but you looked like you look now. We were scared at first, but you tore out the seatbelts and helped us both and we only just got out before the explosion. Then you hugged me and called me ‘mother’ and I couldn’t leave you there. I knew what the government would do.”

Clark shuddered. _I can get that but you took me home like this?_

“You saved our lives. You were always such a good boy,” she said, loosening one hand to pat his cheek. “We didn’t know how well we were going to be able to hide you but we’re fairly remote out here and we had to try. Then the next day we went to wake you up from the crib and you looked human. It was some kind of camouflage. We weren’t sure if it would ever slip away. It never has since, but what happened?”

_An accident on the way home from school. I got really scared almost being hit by something huge falling off a truck._ He deliberately didn’t mention Chloe or that she’d been a part of it. His parents would be terrified knowing Little Miss Pulitzer had seen him _. I used my powers to get away and then I was like this…guess the camouflage fell, huh?_

“Oh baby,” she said, rubbing his back. “Can you put it back?”

_Don’t know how_.

**

Three days.

He had been his so-called true self. God, no scratch that, his legitimate Martian self for three days. Clark had no idea how to make himself look human again, no matter how hard he tried, and, to make matters worse, his telepathy was running rampant. He kept picking up the worries from his parents, who were as confused and maybe even more scared than he was. Overall, Clark was a massive ball of stress with no clue how to fix his life. Finally, frustrated after three days cramped up inside, he went out to the back forty to think. He’d have gone to the barn, but the horses were skittish and reared when he even came in.

Great, like that made him feel better.

He was sitting out on his favorite hill, and looking over the pasture lands. The farm had been in his family for a hundred years, since his great grandfather and one day it was supposed to be his. Clark wasn’t sure he wanted to be a farmer exactly, but he loved the farm, the land he’d always felt connected to even if “from Earth” was the last thing someone would use to describe him.

_What am I going to do now?_

“Maybe call your best friend or, I guess, have your parents do it,” Chloe said, sitting down next to him.

Clark blinked back at her. _My parents told you where to find me?_

“No,” she huffed. “They told me you had mono, but I figured I could find you on forty acres anyway. You’re pretty distinctive. I just figured that if you’d skipped school three days in a row you hadn’t figured out an ‘off switch.’”

Clark couldn’t blush like this, but he could phase. He felt himself already becoming intangible as the fear and frustration flood through him. _I don’t know how. Mom said I did it as a kid when they first found me_.

“In the shower.”

It wasn’t a question, and why would it be?

_Yeah, and no I didn’t know until she told me, believe me_.

“I do. You were way more scared than I was.”

Clark snorted and still flickered between tangible and not. _You should be, right? I’m the seven foot tall Martian monster with red eyes. You’re seriously bent, Chlo_.

She sighed and her eyes were brimming with tears again. Clark knew she couldn’t help it, but all that pity made him feel even worse. “You’re my best friend. Hell, you’re the only person besides Pete who talked to me all last year because I was the weird city girl.”

_You’re not weird. I cornered the market_.

She chuckled and stroked his cheek, the feel of her touch enough to ground him, make him solid again. “You were always weird, Clark. No one should love flannel that much.”

_This isn’t something you can joke out of, Chlo. I can’t even leave my house._

“Obviously, if you could hide this, shift forms, I guess, you can do it back. You just have to find the right trigger. I doubt it was a one time skill of a three year old.”  


_I’ve tried and I can’t replicate it_.

“Then, think about it logically. You changed because you were really scared, right? I doubt you’re any less scared now, not really. Maybe the adrenaline rush is messing with things.”

_I don’t know how to feel relaxed or less scared,_ he countered.

“Clark, no matter what happens,” she said, taking his massive white hand in hers. “I’m here. I’ll be your friend, so you’re not alone.”

_I wish I could be more_.

_You can’t mean that,_ he said, sighing through his nose. _No one would want to date me now, ever._

Chloe blushed. “You can read my thoughts?”

_Oh God, I thought you said that out loud. I didn’t mean to. I…I heard you but it’s why I’m out here. I can’t turn that off either. I hear my parents and they’re worried, so I’m even **more** worried._

She grinned at that, even if her cheeks were still rosy. “That’s really cool, but please learn to turn it off, some thoughts are private.”

_It’s on the list after my ‘look human’ plan_.

“I…fine, cat’s out of the bag. Clark, I blew you off last year about being friends because I wasn’t sure you’d like me. I’m ragingly jealous of your Lana crush, and I wish you saw me the same way.”

_Who says I don’t? I’ve thought about it, but you said ‘now we can be friends.’_

“Girls lie. That’s a new lesson for you, Marvin.”

_Huh?_

“Marvin the Martian, Looney Tunes, hello!”

_I don’t find that funny_.

“You know, of course,” she continued. “This means war!”

He laughed, well the best he could mentally. _I should really scare you. I scare me a lot. I…Chloe, what the Hell am I supposed to do now?_

She surprised him then by kissing his cheek. It felt so nice, so safe, and he wished he were himself, more normal, so he could fully return the gesture. Warmth flooded through him and he felt slightly dizzy, when he opened his eyes again, she was smiling.

“What?” Clark heard his voice for the first time in three days and looked down at his hands. They were peach and normal and not a scale in sight. “I did it!”

“See then maybe I just have to kiss you a lot,” she said, rolling her eyes. “What helped?”

“I just felt secure? I don’t know. It was the first time in three days I didn’t feel scared. I guess I have a lot to learn if we’re adding what? Shapeshifting? To my pile of abilities.”

“Hmm, can you look like Brad Pitt. I love him.”

“Don’t abuse me for my powers, Chlo.”

She nodded and hugged him, leaning her head on his chest. “I’m so sorry this happened, that you found out in such a shitty way. I’m even sorrier that---”

“I’m not human?”

“Not for the reasons you think. I always was an _X-Files_ fan. I figure intelligent life would be a step up.”

“Even when it’s red-eyed and scaly?”

Chloe’s eyes shone again, and he could tell even without using his telepathy that, even if she cared for him, she pitied him too. “Even then. You’re amazing and you risked your secret to save my life. I’m glad you came.”

He sighed and kissed the crown of her head. “I am too, Chlo.”

“Now, let’s talk about if you can look like Matthew McConaughey?”

Okay, maybe he wasn’t that glad he’d come after all…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
